Christmas Gift
by BillyJoeCobras
Summary: LayClaire oneshot. Hershel's first Christmas in London. (I do not own Professor Layton or its characters; this is merely for entertainment.)


Hershel's first two months in London had certainly been the best he'd ever experienced in his life; he'd met a few people already, despite being so timid, and he'd even had a crush at his new school—and now he realized just how fitting the term "crush" was, especially in his situation.

Knowing whether or not the feeling was requited, feeling more and more pressured to confess his feelings every moment, yet also growing much more reluctant to admit it—yes, having a crush could be quite the puzzle.

In fact, this girl—Claire, that is—was the first person that Hershel encountered in London, and from the start, he'd been smitten with love for her just from gazing at her extravagant beauty. She was a member of Student Council, so she'd been the one to guide him around his new surroundings at Gressenheller University—he recalled their first conversation ever so clearly. He'd known Claire—even after they'd just met—to be extremely intelligent, kind, caring, and considerate.

She genuinely cared for her fellow students, so she'd practically interrogated Hershel when they first met—and he couldn't blame her. A transfer student in the middle of the year, after Randall's…

…After his tragic demise in the ruins of Akbadain. He'd never truly gotten over the events of that day, but Claire had somehow managed to cheer him out of his misery with her contagious optimism.

However, now wasn't the time for such reminiscence; Hershel's first Christmas in London was approaching, and he was currently awaiting Clark's arrival in their meeting spot beside his locker. Although, Clark was taking a much longer time than anticipated…so, Hershel had a moment to himself.

Clark was yet another student of Gressenheller that had befriended Hershel immediately, which was probably to be expected, considering that they were roommates. His demeanor was similar to Randall's, giddy and encouraging, despite being a bit older than Hershel, and he was a major archaeology buff. Hershel was in his archaeology class, and they sat beside each other and would often chat about insignificant things while we were taking notes.

Another brief moment to himself, and Hershel could make out Clark's silhouette in the distance, the older of the two hurrying over eagerly, waving over towards the poofy haired brunet, who reciprocated the gesture.

Finally arriving to the spot where Hershel had been so patiently waiting, Clark smirked and wrapped his arm over Hershel's shoulders. "Sorry I'm so late, my teacher decided to keep me after class!"

"Someone sounds excited." Hershel remarks, chuckling sheepishly and running a hand through his hair.

"It's certainly not because of the little 'detention' I had." Clark rolls his eyes, the glimpses back towards Hershel, "Anyway, I've got something special planned for us today, Hershel!"

"And…what might that be?"

"That's a secret until we get there!" Clark winks, merely giving Hershel the notion that there was something suspicious going on, but that was one puzzle he couldn't really solve at the moment. "Well, I suppose there's one thing I could disclose to you…" He puts emphasis on the 'one', an enthusiastic grin on his face.

"…What would that thing be, Clark?"

"We're going to shop for presents! It's close to Christmas, after all, right? Do you know what Claire wants?" Clark winks again, instantaneously flustering Hershel—Clark had deduced from the very beginning about the younger brunet's crush, which mentally disturbed him—was it really that obvious that he had feelings for the ginger-haired girl? What if she'd already figured it out?

"Y-yes, I know what Claire wants…" Hershel admits, a slight blush tinting his cheeks, "How about you? What does Brenda want?" Brenda was Clark's girlfriend, who shared his attitude, and she'd also befriended Hershel by now.

"Heh, I know exactly what she wants! Sounds like we're all set then, eh, Hershel?" It appeared so, but Hershel couldn't help internally pondering over what the remaining portion of their trip would consist of.

~…~

Hershel and Clark had dispersed into the mall now, headed towards different shops due to the variations of Brenda and Claire's interests. Releasing a slight sigh, Hershel proceeded to search through the clock shop he'd decided to visit—Claire had mentioned once or twice of her inability to keep track of the time, and he'd caught her glimpsing at a watch in particular, the one he was attempting to find.

And, so far, his search had been fruitless…he internally pleaded that they hadn't already sold it or gotten rid of it, otherwise…

What other gift would please her and be just as sincere…?

_Calm yourself, Hershel; it'll be alright. _He assures himself, continuing his investigation until his gaze finally meets the object he was looking for.

The watch that Claire had been wanting! And, upon closer inspection, he could realize why—the golden cover was customizable, and it appeared to be in mint condition. Biting his lip slightly and pondering over what to engrave within it, he finally settles on one and points it out to the clerk.

~…~

Hershel now stared fondly with confidence towards the tiny red and green box placed into his hands. He had the utmost certainty that it would be something that Claire would love, albeit how expensive it had turned out to be. It cost him approximately as much as the amount of money that his parents had left him when he left, but fortunately for him, he had some leftover and still had the money earned from his occupation. In order to save more money, he'd have to write out his Christmas cards, but that wasn't too much of a loss. Handwritten cards were much more sincere, anyway.

Placing the box tenderly into his pocket, which he now wished would have a lock on it so nothing happened to the precious item, he grins and heads over to Clark's location.

~…~

The shopping portion of Clark and Hershel's adventure was now finished, and the older of the two was now dragging—literally—the younger brunet to their next stop, which he'd remained clueless about.

Hershel had interrogated Clark mercilessly about where they were headed until he'd finally announced that they'd reached their destination, much to Hershel's dismay, since the spot was, in fact…a barber shop.

_Clark was taking me to get my hair cut!?_ "C-Clark, why here, of all places!?" Hershel was practically rendered speechless; was his hair that bad? He'd worked so hard to get his hair to look like this, and he was rather proud of it…

"Heheh…you'll see once you get your present, Hershel, don't worry." Clark flashes him a thumbs-up, smirking at the now even more perplexed boy's reaction—a pout that transmogrified into an expression of melancholy. Patting Hershel on the back, Clark continues, "It's just a trim, Hershel, no big deal." Feeling his poofy hair for what might be the very last time, Hershel reluctantly nods, casting his gaze downwards. Clark smiles wryly now, attempting to cheer the younger brunet, "C'mon, Hershel, no need to look so glum. You could always grow it out again, and besides, long hair can be hazardous on archaeological digs!"

"…Alright." Hershel recalcitrantly agrees.

~…~

Hershel's appointment had actually taken much longer than originally assumed, and all Hershel did afterwards was feel the unnatural tufts of hair instead of his normal hairstyle.

"You actually look rather stunning with such short hair, Hershel! " Clark remarks with an eager grin.

"…I much prefer my old style…" he mutters to himself, pouting slightly—this new hairstyle just wasn't comfortable for him right now; he felt like a child again. "…Now what?"

"Next, we're getting you some new clothes, Hershel!"

_…Why me?_

~…~

"Alright, Hershel, which one do you like better?" Clark holds up two vests, one crimson and one navy blue. Glancing at each one, a frown forms on Hershel's lips.

"I don't know, Clark…the red one?"

"Don't sound so uncertain! Shopping can be fun, you know!"

"The more I interact with you, the more it seems like you're becoming Brenda." Towards Hershel's snide remark, Clark chuckles, which merely causes Hershel's cheeks to grow rosy.

"I wasn't aware that you were such a comedian!" Clark jokes, nudging Hershel with his elbow, "Now, c'mon, Hershel, pick one!"

"…The red one." Hershel finally selects, and Clark swiftly discards of the other vest, tossing the one Hershel had chosen into their shopping cart.

"An excellent choice, if I do say so myself." Clark smirks, as if harboring knowledge that Hershel wasn't aware of—and he most likely was.

"…Whatever, Clark." Hershel shrugs, although his curiosity refused to fade, "Now what?"

"We're all done here!" Clark claps his hands together exuberantly, "All we need to do now is get you checked out, and then we'll go out for some ice cream over at that Cold Stone place. Sound good?"

Ice cream in the middle of winter?…Oh, well, ice cream sounded rather comforting to him—the loss of his hair would be a tragedy unforgotten. "…Sounds good."

"Hershel, stop being such a downer! You had some fun today, didn't you?" the younger gives a sheepish smile, feeling the pocket that withheld Hershel's precious gift to Claire.

"…I suppose I did."

~…~

Today was the big day; December twenty-fifth…

Clark had invited some students of Gressenheller—Clark was one of the more popular students—over to his parents' home, since their house was much more spacious than their cramped dorm room, and his parents would be out for the week. Just staring at the party taking place within instilled a bit of panic to the brunet, since Hershel could tell that whatever was taking place within was intense; he could make out flashing lights and could already hear the amplified music reverberating throughout the household.

Reluctantly, Hershel walks up to the doorstep, ringing the doorbell and hearing Clark's rapidly approaching footsteps. The door opens swiftly, nearly smacking Hershel in the face, and the once muffled music booms into his eardrums. "Ah, Hershel, you finally showed up!" he greets, "We've been waiting!"

As he steps inside, Brenda greets him with a wave, smiling towards him and Clark. "Come on in, Hershel! I baked us some treats!" she announces giddily, a slight giggle escaping her lips as she gestures for Hershel to follow her. Clark shoves him towards Brenda, which flusters and startles him at first, but he then flashes Clark a questioning glance. As he did so, Clark mouthed "Claire's in the kitchen!" to him, causing the brunet to perk up, his cheeks bright red.

Brenda now had to forcibly haul Hershel into the kitchen, and as soon as he took a step inside, his body tensing up, he heard the door slam behind him. He jumped at first, then desperately attempted to escape, but Brenda had locked the two of them inside. Internally distressed, he continued to pound on the door until he heard Claire's soothing voice.

"Oh, there you are, Hershel!" she greets, her hands hurriedly placed behind her back. Her ginger hair was put up into ponytails, decorative holiday-related barrettes and hair bands holding it up. "I must apologize for Brenda and Clark, they've been insisting that I wait in here until you got here." Shrugging, she giggles anxiously, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Th-they can be rather forceful, huh?" Hershel laughs timidly, releasing his hands from the doorknob and rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.

"That's an understatement!" There was a brief moment of nervous laughter, and the tension was so thick that you could slice it with a knife—that is, until Hershel finally decided to speak up.

"O-oh, erm…M-Merry Christmas, Claire!" He bites his lip almost immediately after speaking—he was hoping to have the courage to say something other than holiday greetings, but conversing with anyone proved to be a challenge for him, so how was he meant to engage in conversation with someone he held so dear? What if he wasn't ready for this…?

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Hershel!" the way she'd said those words caused even more butterflies to appear in his stomach, and his heart pounded much more rapidly. _I can't handle this…!_ "W-well, erm…speaking of Christmas, Hershel…I got you something!" With a shy smile, she offers a large box to him, and Hershel's blush intensifies a bit more as Claire gingerly places it into his custody. "G-go on, open it!" she encourages.

This box was shockingly light, so Hershel's curiosity grew as he pries open the lid with a single hand. What awaited within was a crimson cap, one that matched and complemented his new outfit and the color of his cheeks as he places it on his head.

Claire smiled sheepishly, standing on her tip-toes and adjusting it so that it fit well on the brunet's head. "Well? How do you like it, Hershel?"

"I-I love it!" he responds with a cheeky grin.

"I'm glad to hear that!" she giggles, and Hershel shakily presents his gift after pulling it out of his pocket. "Hm? What's that, Hershel?"

"I-I got you something, too…" he answers, handing her the gift he'd spent the majority of his money on. Claire gently opens it, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight as she stared at her gift. "I-I saw you, erm, l-looking at it in the store, s-so—"

"Thank you so much!" she cries out, eagerly wrapping her arms around Hershel and holding him close giddily. Caught off-guard, Hershel's blush intensifies, and he returns her sudden embrace. "I love it, Hershel!"

"I-I'm glad you do!" Another silent moment with Claire snuggling him before she finally released him from her grasp, and Hershel anxiously rubbed the back of his head. "D-did you read what it says…?"

"O-oh, you got something engraved on it?" her cheeks flush, and she examines it once more. "To my dearest Claire, who brought sunshine back into my life and eradicated the darkness…" Claire's eyes widen, her eyes watering and covering her mouth with her available hand, "I love you…" Hearing his words repeated only caused him further embarrassment, and seeing her reaction, he wasn't certain as to whether or not it was something to be concerned with. "H-Hershel…" she whispers, clasping the chained clock over her neck.

"Y-y-yes…?"

Before he knew it, he felt Claire's breath on his lips, and felt her lips planted on his own. After another moment, they parted, and she timidly fiddled with a strand of her hair.

"I love you too, Hershel."


End file.
